His First Snow, His First Friend
by rejooc
Summary: For eleven-year-old Harry Potter, winter break is as terrifying as it is exciting, and not for the reasons he expected. Perhaps a blustery day with the first person he'd ever call a friend is exactly what he needs.


**A/N: Ravenclaw House, Year 2 student, writing a standard story for "Weather: Snow". W/C: 836**

 **A great big thank you to my wonderful beta readers: nottheonlyfanaround, Celestia0909, my dear friend Sebastian, and 2DaugthersofAthena!**

Sitting on his bed at the top of Gryffindor tower, Harry Potter was terrified.

He wasn't mind-racing-heart-pounding terrified. Rather, his palms had grown sweaty, his stomach churned, and his mind was sluggish. He felt frozen. In fact, everything was frozen. That's _why_ he was terrified.

He'd never been allowed to play in the snow at the Dursleys' and hadn't considered this when he agreed to stay at Hogwarts over winter break this year. For an eleven year old, such independence was a rarity.

In the bed beside him, sheltered from the icy world by thick crimson blankets, Ron was asleep. Harry hadn't checked personally that this was so, but the redhead's loud snores were proof enough.

As the early morning lost the characteristic greyness of dawn and the sun's rays leaked through the clouds, Harry gasped in awe. The grounds of Hogwarts were no longer covered in a thick blanket of white dust, but in the most delicate crystal lace. Of course, it was the very same snow. The only thing that had changed was Harry's perception as the sun made the white powder sparkle and shine.

The Black Lake was still black, but there was something softer about it now as Harry watched the giant squid reach one long tentacled leg out of the waters and collect a snowball from the shore. A moment later, the squid threw it, hard and fast, into a tree that Harry would've sworn moved in response. He supposed anything was possible at Hogwarts.

 _Anything_ is _possible,_ he realized. Excitement slowly replaced the terror in his chest and he breathed easier.

"Ron," he hissed, untangling his limbs from their position wrapped around his body and climbing off his bed. "Ron," he said again. He shook his friend at first, but when that proved unsuccessful, he resorted to ripping the blankets off and exposing him to the cool dormitory air with only his usual Chudley Canon pajamas to keep him warm.

Ron grumbled something about Quidditch, clearly not awake despite glaring up at Harry. When he recognized Harry's expression as the same look of eager anticipation and fear that he wore whenever he was about to do something for the first time, Ron woke up a little more. "What's going on, Harry?"

Harry didn't answer, shivering from everything but the cold. Instead, he simply pointed to the window.

"It's snowing," Ron confirmed. "Bloody hell, it snowed a lot. So what?"

"It's snowing," Harry repeated, breathlessly. His eyes were bright and excited; his face was flushed. When Ron didn't respond, apparently not understanding the momentous occasion that was a snowy day without the Dursleys, Harry dropped his tone and his gaze. "I've never been allowed to play in the snow before. Would you like to… I mean. I wondered if we could go sledding?"

For a moment, the room was quiet. Of course, snowy days make everything seem quiet, but to Harry, _this_ silence lasted forever. He wondered if Ron would laugh or make fun of him, or worse, ask why anyone would want to go sledding with him of all people. He thought perhaps they were too old to go sledding now anyway, and that he'd missed his chance.

Then, without a word, Ron's eyes started to shine, too, and his face broke into the familiar lopsided, freckled grin that Harry was beginning to associate with happiness and safety. "Let's go," he replied simply. It wasn't much, but it was everything to Harry Potter, and the Boy Who Lived grinned back.

"I've got extra socks if you need them," Harry announced as he turned back to his part of the room and opened his trunk. "I've got loads of Uncle Vernon's and Dudley's and I'm sure they're warm when you roll them all up."

"Great! I've got an extra jumper. It has an 'R' on it, but I don't think it matters much," Ron replied.

Harry stifled a snort. "I've never been so grateful for our robes. I think we'll probably look like Batman with them flying out behind us if we find a good hill."

Ron paused. "Batman?" he asked.

They stared at each other for a moment, having forgotten what different worlds they came from. Then, without a word, they started laughing. They couldn't stop laughing as they got dressed, shoving every bit of warm clothing they could find onto some part of their body or another, and descended the stairs into the Common Room.

"Harry," Ron asked, stopping just shy of the exit. "Do you think we could get some hot chocolate from the kitchens?" He was excited and clearly pleased with himself for thinking of such an idea.

"I think," Harry replied slowly, "that we should find out."

Harry also thought that he liked the snow very much, but he didn't say that thought out loud. As it turned out, he didn't have to. Ron smiled at him again and led the way through the Fat Lady's portrait, and he was sure that his friend already knew.


End file.
